Exiled
by l.poe
Summary: After seeking refuge in Muggle America, Draco and Ginny start to think that the wizarding world has completely forgotten about them. At least until people in power come to collect on debts owed them. Will the secrets that Draco and Ginny have carefully kept break their marriage? Or bring them together? Continuation of The Vow. Non-compliant with Book Seven.


She sat with her feet curled up under her, her brightly painted red toes flexing and cracking every so often as she stared off at the rain. The Chilean Jasmine Vine blooms, charmed to survive any weather, smuggled over here and planted under the best concealment charms, were twice their usual size and practically seemed to grow taller with each drop of rain. It was the rain on the tin roof of their screened-in porch that was really carrying her off, though. The gentle tap gave her a methodical rhythm to bob her head to and forget about nearly anything else, though her mind still did wander.

Despite the humidity and heat that the mid-summer rain had failed to cool off, Ginny wrapped her long fingers around the tall, mint green mug that was half-full of steaming ginger tea. It was early in the evening, though well past her husband's dinner time, and she had yet to hear his car ease into the driveway and disturb the quiet, relaxing peace of the day.

Funny, that was something she never truly thought she would get used to, and had: Draco Malfoy driving to and from work in a car.

There were lots of things this life had forced her to get used to, though. And a lot of things that she still felt she would never understand, of course. Cars, she had a love-hate relationship with, really. It was something she had no problem wrapping her head around when it came to driving them, or her husband coming home every day in one… But, the fact that they were much more dangerous than a broom that hurtled along at thousands of feet above the ground? No, she wasn't sure that would really sink in.

Cooking had taken awhile, though now she had dinner simmering on the stove, and ice cream in the freezer, waiting for her husband to drown it in hot chocolate sauce that a small box called a microwave could heat in seconds, probably more efficiently than a wand ever could. She had burned far too many dinners in their first few months in Chauncy, South Carolina, she was surprised Draco hadn't sent her back home to England, telling her he'd ride this out alone.

The internet, the school system, police officers and the TV Box, electricity, sweet iced tea, lifts and slobbering dogs kept as pets that could be kept in the yard by an invisible fence… There were definitely things that the muggles had invented to get by without magic that Ginny really couldn't understand.

With a sigh the young redhead reclined back into the swinging bench on their porch, her book, a warn and soft paperback, still lay open across her leg, though the completely unbelievable story of a vampire falling in love with a girl had long since been forgotten and swept from her mind, with any luck she'd remember to return it to Belle tomorrow when she and Draco met them for lunch on the water.

The water… it was her favorite part of their house. She shifted her gaze from the flowers they had carefully brought over to the water that curved into their backyard. They sat right on the edge of Lake Murray, back in one of the fingers that branched off of the main body. It provided endless entertainment on the hottest of days, and the perfect place to laze around even when the weather got colder, though it never froze like the Black Lake did back at Hogwarts.

Her lips tugged up in the smallest of smiles at the thought of her old school, and she allowed her eyes to drift shut for a moment, knowing that soon she would have to get up and go back into their little, comfortable house to set the table with their customary white linin tablecloth and wine glasses and the ridiculously expensive plates that Narcissa Malfoy had given them for their wedding, because despite everything that had changed, some things had to remain the same.

That was the exact reason they kept a cat instead of a dog and that Ginny kept sprigs of herbs around the house year round, hanging them in windows, and that that she refused to hang mistletoe during the Christmas Party that they now threw annually because you never knew what could be hiding in there thanks to Luna Lovegood.

She was still thinking of her slightly batty friend when she heard it… a sound so familiar and yet one she hadn't heard in years, a _pop_ that sounded like it had come from the house. It was followed, almost immediately, by a crash; the sound of her hanging pots and pans hitting the floor. Her eyes flew open, and she slowly stood up, wishing her wand was in the pocket of her white pants and not in a safety deposit box in Gringotts USA.

"Draco?" She called tentatively, still holding her mug of tea as she carefully eased her way into the kitchen, the door quietly shutting behind her. Even as she called for him, she knew how useless it was, Ginny still hadn't heard the rumble of his car engine in the driveway, and even the rain wasn't going to drown it out. But as she rounded the corner past the bar in their white and black tiled kitchen, Ginny Malfoy realized that life was full of surprises. "Draco?" She asked, confused. "I didn't hear your car, I was out on the porch listening to the rain…" Her voice trailed off. "Are you, are you okay, love?"

Her husband slowly pivoted on the spot at the sound of her voice, and her racing heart seemed to stop at the red stain that was slowly climbing its up the sleeve of his white oxford shirt. The cup dropped from her hands about the same time he began to fall, but she was on the other side of the counter by the time the teacup smashed, the tea splattering up onto the cabinets and seeping into the grout of her freshly scrubbed floors. She was yelling incoherently for help in an empty house as she dragged her husband up off of the floor and into her lap, tearing the buttons off of his shirt.

"How?" She finally managed to whisper. "Splinched… but how? Darling, how?" Her voice was ragged as she cradled his face in her hands and lap, gently stroking his cheek with one hand while her other fought for the phone in her pocket, thanking Merlin that she had actually learned how to use the small black rectangle. "911," she whispered, "911, I need help, I need help." Finally, the nearly robotic sounding voice came from the little black box asking for her emergency. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her husband's eyes flutter, and his breathing become slower, and what little color his pale features held fade from his cheeks and lips.

"My husband!" She all but shouted into the phone. "He's, he's hurt, I don't know what happened; he just got home! Please, help!"


End file.
